Training

As I get older (and wiser?) I don't drink as much as I used to. When I was in my twenties I spent a fair amount of time hanging out in bars with my friends. Today, as my fortieth birthday looms on the not-so-distant horizon, drinking a lot and often just isn't as much fun as it was in my younger years.

A few weeks ago, my sister Regan and I were discussing our upcoming trip to Ireland. We talked about our previous trip two years ago and how much fun we had with our McCormack relatives. When we told our cousin Helen where we were staying during our visit, she remarked that it would be a long walk home from Tuohy's. Remembering our evening at Tuohy's from last time, Regan and I agreed that it might be a good idea to dust off our drinking caps and brush up.

We were officially in training. Our first few sessions seemed to be going well - we had some laughs and gradually increased our consumption. Yesterday I asked Regan if she wanted to grab a beer, reminding her of our training status.

Regan sighed, "You know, I don't think this training thing is working for me. What made having drinks fun when we were young is that we just did it. There's no spontaneity here. This feels like work, there's too much pressure. It's kind of like when a fertility-challenged couple is trying to get pregnant..."

I get it. I officially call the training off. I suppose that I will just need to show a little restraint, but at soon as a big pint of Guinness is set down before me, all bets are off. We will let the chips fall where they may...hopefully keeping the hangovers to a minimum.